


The B in Subtle Does Not Stand for Bucky

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky 2016/2017 [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abstinence, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky has no game, Hit With A Clue-By-Four, M/M, Makeup Sex, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony has no clue, it's not you it's me, stupid boys are stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 18:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11087019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: In Tash’s defense, she did NOT realize they’d be THIS STUPID.Bucky's trying to be subtle and romantic. This... this is not a good plan when dating Tony Stark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How about... Established relationship, Bucky plans to entice/seduce Tony (using any means you'd like), so that Tony will nail him through the mattress. Or up the wall. Or on any surface really, Bucky isn't picky (fortunately, neither is Tony).
> 
> Author Note: Dear Prompter… this story came out of the following discussion:  
> Tisfan: I’m trying to think how to do this so it’s interesting. Bucky’s idea of seduction is “hey, babe, wanna?” if he’s not just dragging Tony off toward the bed by his hair.  
> Everyworldneedslove: Yeah, Subtle, not exactly Bucky’s thing. Or Tony’s. In fact, Tony pretty much misses subtle entirely.

It wasn’t the first time they’d annoyed Tash, Bucky knew that for sure. Probably more like the sixth. He couldn’t help it; carrying Tony out of the common room and upstairs to nail him right through the mattress was too tempting. He was even willing to blame Tony for it in the first place, because the man was handsy as hell and had a terrible habit of making lewd jokes and bedroom eyes nearly constantly.

Personally, Bucky thought Tash should give him a little bit of fucking credit that he didn’t just take his incredibly sexy boyfriend to the floor in front of God and everyone. (He’d considered it once, but managed to get them into the elevator before peeling Tony’s pants down to his thighs and swallowing his cock. Also, totally not his fault that she hit the elevator summon button. Really. It wasn’t.)

“You wouldn’t know subtle if it bit you on the ass,” Tash said, glowering at him.

“Subtle would be better behaved and not bite anyone,” Steve pointed out. “Certainly better behaved than Bucky’s been.”

Bucky threw his hands up in the air. Both of them ganging up on him seemed a bit much, really. It’s not like they weren’t loud and obnoxious sometimes, too. “I can totally be subtle,” Bucky sneered. “You just watch.”

Tash took a sip of her tea and gazed at him over the rim of her mug. “We have an accord, then. No sex, unless you can get it subtly. And I will _know_ if you cheat. You… won’t like the consequences.”

Bucky glowered. He (had been) was the world’s deadliest assassin, credited with dozens of high-profile jobs, and he’d never been caught right up until he’d _decided_ to be caught. How hard could it be, getting his boyfriend into bed without being blatant? Tony was just as into it as Bucky was. “You’ll see,” he said again.

***

Bucky might have picked the worst. Week. _Ever_. To attempt to seduce his boyfriend quietly. The Maria Stark Foundation's annual ball was that week, and Tony was rather involved in the planning. Bucky knew Tony had people for that sort of thing, and hell, the Foundation had people for that sort of thing, and yet Tony hovered over the caterers and venue planners like they were getting set to invade Latveria.

 _Subtle_.

After a day of meetings and double-checking with several coordinators, plus a quarterly stockholder’s report, Tony was sure to be tired, stressed out.

Bucky chilled a bottle of wine, drew a bubble bath and sprinkled rose-petals all over the bed and waited for Tony to come back up to the penthouse.

And waited. And waited some more. When Tony finally made his way back to their room, he was stripped down to his workshop clothes, streaked with grease and with an angry burn across the backs of his knuckles, shuffling across the floor with his eyes mostly closed. By then, the bath had gone cold and the wine was warm. Not that Tony noticed either. He didn’t stop until his knees hit the edge of the bed and then he fell face-first onto it and was asleep before Bucky could even say hello.

Bucky sighed. Overworked genius Tony was his fifth favorite thing and Tony was adorable when he was sleeping. He peeled Tony’s clothes off without waking him and got him settled onto the bed, tucking the blanket around him, then went to clean up. There was always tomorrow.

***

The problem was, Bucky thought, more that Tony wasn’t used to any sort of subtle. He didn’t eat until his stomach was practically crawling out of his mouth to go hunting on his own. He didn’t rest until he was falling down. JARVIS had been known to complain from time to time that the only bad thing about not having some sort of corporeal body was that he couldn’t smack his creator upside the head from time to time and send him off to nap.

On the other hand, the coffee pot was one of Tony’s favorite devices. Bucky spent the better part of an hour composing little messages on heart-shaped sticky notes. He put one on the handle of Tony’s favorite mug, on the top of the bean grinder, one on the side of the coffee maker, and one on the box of donuts he left next to the coffee pot, all cake with pink glaze and sprinkles. Tony’s favorite.

Sure enough, not long after, Tony came into the kitchen, phone headset in place as he conferenced with someone or other -- not Pepper, he was much more polite when it was Pepper. He smiled at Bucky, then reached up into the cabinet for his mug. The sticky note fluttered off, unnoticed.

“No, what I’m telling you is that it’s a completely workable--” He threw up his hands in annoyance and flicked the top off the bean grinder as he reached for the beans. “No, that’s because you’re not _listening_ to me,” he growled, and mashed the grinder button with rather more force than necessary.

...Had that note gotten mixed in with the beans? Bucky didn’t see it anywhere.

Tony dumped the beans into the pot and stabbed at the button. He was going to have to wait a few seconds for the coffee to brew, so surely he’d see _that_ note.

“Michaels, I’m too busy this week to come down there and tell you how to do your job,” Tony snapped, pacing the kitchen. “If you can’t make sense of the notes, maybe I should send over someone who _can._ ...That’s what I thought.”

He dragged off the headset and threw it on the counter in disgust. “Ug, how did he end up in my R&D department?” he demanded. He pulled the mug out of the stream of coffee and swigged it back like particularly cheap tequila. “Oh, hey, donuts!” He nudged open the box and pulled one out, taking a huge bite. “Fnnks, bah,” he muttered. He leaned over and left a sticky kiss on Bucky’s cheek, then was gone again, mug in hand.

Bucky groaned and scrubbed at his face with both hands, listening to the rasp of his beard as it scraped against his palm. “How does he even survive?” Bucky muttered, knowing that no one was listening. “Seriously?” He was going to have to up his game. _Shit_.

***

Bucky thought he was starting to get somewhere with the text message flirting. Tony at least looked at his phone an _awful lot_. Board meetings, and R &D brainstorming sessions, and working on repairing the Avenger’s gear, and strategic planning reviews with SI security, Tony always had his phone with him.

Subtle, Bucky reminded himself. Which probably meant no dick pics.

_Thinking about you, babe._

He did some research. Emojis were the big thing, right? It took him a while to track down some hints and tips, and then it took him a little longer to figure out why eggplants and peaches featured in a lot of the samples, but when he did get it, Bucky almost rolled off the couch, laughing.

He texted Tony an eggplant and a peach. Tony had the world’s most perfect ass; more than one person had commented on it. And while Bucky wasn’t sure it actually looked like a peach, he’d be more than happy to take a bite of it.

Tony texted back a lollipop, and a... oh, that was a tongue. Well.

Bucky scrolled through the options. Why why why were there so many different icons and what the hell were even some of them supposed to be? There needed to be some sort of search feature. He found a bunch of hands; let’s see… that one, index finger, pointing. And the OK. Winkie face. He was just hitting send when the building alarm went off.

“No, no, no, no,” Bucky muttered. “What the…”

“Avengers assemble,” Steve’s voice came through the overhead. “We have reports of hostile non-human life forms attacking the coastal area off Maine. Quinjet, fifteen minutes!”

“No. no. no.” Bucky slid to the floor in front of the coffee table and banged his forehead into the wooden surface before getting up. He had a fucking job to do.

***

There were some things that should not be allowed. Giant semi-sapient squids that spat smelly, half-frozen ink all over everything were right at the top of that _fucking list._

They were also fast as hell, prone to swatting flying Avengers out of the air like they were playing badminton with their tentacles. Iron Man had actually gotten shoved into one beaky maw and nearly eaten before he managed to unibeam a hole in the back of the thing’s head and make an escape.

The squids’ bodies were squishy, the skin thick and rubbery, and killing them was like trying to stuff marshmallows into a wine bottle. They were hard as hell to cut, and shooting them put the whole group at risk from ricochettes. Bucky wasn’t even sure they’d been defeated so much as they’d gotten bored and wandered back where they came from.

Tony had already contacted Atlantis and their obnoxious ruler, Namor the Sub-Mariner, for more useful tactics. Which would have been great, except Namor had some very strange ideas of what was befitting for his station and Tony was having to drop everything to entertain the fucking merman.

All bad press aside, Tony _could_ actually be quite diplomatic when he wanted to. The trick was getting him to want to -- but it turned out that having been nearly eaten by a giant squid was pretty motivating. So when Namor finally deigned to make an appearance, Tony ushered him around and catered to that swollen ego in the name of getting Namor to actually commit to doing something about the squids.

And if Tony seemed a little stiff, his smile a little tight, well, Namor was a first-class asshole, even when being helpful. It wasn’t until the whole nonsense was nearly done that Tony stumbled over a bit of chopped-off tentacle and winced in pain that Bucky realized he’d been hiding injuries the whole time.

Extracting Tony from Namor’s clutches (okay, so it wasn’t that bad, but Namor didn’t really understand human physiology and concepts like _bleeding to death_ weren’t high on his list of concerns) involved shoving Steve at Namor and probably owing Steve a million favors, because the Prince of Atlantis (or whatever his damn title was) had something of a crush on Steve, which Steve was desperately trying to avoid dealing with.

“God _dammit_ , Tony,” Bucky swore, as soon as he managed to get Tony around the corner where no one would notice that Tony was limping, bleeding, and sweating like crazy inside his armor. Bucky got a thumb down inside Tony’s armor and triggered the release mechanism. The amount of blood that flooded out of the left boot was pretty damn worrying. Bucky gritted his teeth and picked his boyfriend up in a bridal carry. “Barton, I got cleanup duty for you, near the south door.”

***

Another week of celibacy, because Tony never could do shit by half-measures, including getting his ass almost dead. After losing so much blood and a head injury on top of that, his recovery was complicated by the squid ink getting into his wound, which caused an infection.

Bucky knew Tony was pretty damn sick. He knew it because Tony _didn’t_ spend the first two days trying to check out Against Medical Advice. But it was hard to be around Tony, when Bucky was already wound up from a week’s worth of celibacy. Bucky was a terrible person, spending too much time at Tony’s bedside while he was ill, spoon-feeding him and helping him wash up with half an erection and difficulty concentrating because he was too busy staring at the way Tony’s mouth moved, or wanting to peel that thin hospital gown aside and--

Yeah, Bucky was better off just staying out of arm’s reach. He didn’t want to hurt Tony by accident. Bucky was a selfish, _horrible_ person. The man had practically bled out on his feet; being ravished by a former assassin was not what Tony needed.

Cho finally notified Bucky that they were releasing Tony from medical. Bucky spent some time picking out an outfit; he wanted to look his best for Tony, maybe tempt Tony into a little messing around now that he was feeling better.

Tight jeans that emphasized the curve of his ass, outlined Bucky’s muscular thighs. He wasn’t quite as chesty as Steve -- Steve, who always wore his shirts too small and looked like he ought to wear a damn sports bra to keep his nipples under control -- but Bucky wasn’t lacking in muscle. He selected a thin dark blue top, the material worn and comfortable, clinging to his chest in just the right places, thin enough to see the shadows of his pecs, to trace the lines of his abs. He tore the sleeve off one side -- short sleeves had a tendency to get stuck in the plates of his arm and anyway, Tony _liked_ the arm.

It was nice to see Tony up and about, his color better than it had been for days. Tony gave him a quick smile and it was all Bucky could do not to lift his man up and push him against the wall to kiss him stupid. But he was still trying, even if it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “Hey, babe,” he said. He took Tony’s hand gingerly. Just the brush of his fingers against Tony’s skin was enough to tingle, sending zings of want down Bucky’s spine. Barely twining their fingers together, he led Tony over to the elevator. “Want to grab a snack and then go home?”

Tony’s smile got a little wider and he leaned against Bucky’s side in the elevator. “Yeah, that sounds good. Doc says I’m supposed to stay up on meals to replace all the blood, blah blah blah. But home, for sure. So sick of medical I could puke.”

“Missed you,” Bucky commented, pulling Tony closer against his side, aching for the feel of Tony’s lean body, wanting nothing more than to --

“Hey!” Steve cheered as the elevator door opened. “Tony’s back!” Bucky wasn’t going to ask about the purple marks just above Steve’s collar. Probably.

Except that the kitchen was full of Avengers, guests and friends. Rhodes had even managed to get out of whatever military shit he was doing to come visit. And Namor, too. (That man needed to put some clothes on, really!)

Clint  had made a huge cake shaped like a bandaid (okay, really, whose idea was it to fill the cake with strawberry sauce, so as soon as it was cut, it started fucking bleeding? Ew.) and there were snacks and drinks and…

Bucky sighed. Tony was being passed around his friends like a party favor and it took Bucky a while to find a unoccupied corner where he could have a sulk. It’s not that he didn’t want to share his boyfriend, he just… didn’t want to share.

Not that Bucky could be _too_ upset; it was good to have Tony home, and better to see how happy he was, surrounded by friends and family. But by the time he’d spoken to everyone and had a slice of Clint’s horrifying cake and gotten into a “discussion” with Rhodey and Steve about the advisability of letting weird space monsters eat him specifically so he could blast his way out again, he was visibly exhausted.

And by the time Bucky had nudged him away from the party (still in full swing) and up to their room, Tony was pale and shaky from overexerting himself, and obviously too drained for more than a quick kiss goodnight.

There was a large, empty space in the middle of the bed, the sheets cold and crisp. Bucky sighed and pulled himself all the way to the edge of the bed.

***

At first it had been cute, in a frustrating sort of way. Tony was absent-minded under the best of circumstances, but he’d never been anything but passionate when Bucky had nudged him into something.

And then it had gotten irritating; if the Avengers were _deliberately_ getting in their way, it would have been easier to get around. This just seemed to be life.

Finally, Bucky decided the best idea was to just wait it out. Surely Tony would start something, wouldn’t he? He’d always been just as eager for it as Bucky was. How much accidental abstinence was Tony willing to put up with before Bucky was the one on the other end of the seduction? That would be okay, right? And technically wouldn’t go against his agreement with Tash.

Except that… nothing happened.

That empty space in the middle of the bed stayed empty.

Bucky thought he was imagining it, but eventually he couldn’t ignore it. Tony was deliberately putting space between them, now. He pulled back, hastily, if Bucky brushed against him, like he was burned. He fell asleep in the workshop rather than coming to bed at all some nights. Bucky found himself in the awkward position of explaining that he wasn’t tired, so that Tony would get in the bed at all. And Bucky would end up waiting until he was asleep, just so he wouldn’t _bother_ Tony.

Some nights he’d wake as soon as Tony stepped in the room and then hold his breath, pretending to sleep as Tony would creep in like a thief. If Bucky stirred or reached for Tony, it was all apologies and ‘sorry to wake you’ and ‘go back to sleep.’

Maybe… maybe Tony had never been into it. God that hurt to think about, like the bottom of the world had fallen out from under Bucky’s feet. Maybe Tony had felt pressured into sex. Bucky had never hesitated before, just nudging and kissing and… had Tony _not wanted_ him? Or at least, not as bad as Bucky wanted it?

He tried to think back, had Tony ever instigated their trysts, or had he just gone along with what Bucky wanted? Why… why would Tony do that, why would he not say anything if… shit. _Shit_.

Well, maybe Tony just -- there were words for it, right, Bucky remembered JARVIS bringing things to his attention in his welcome to the future, try not to be an asshole lectures. Asexual, that was a thing. Was… was that what things were like, for Tony. Had he been merely _tolerating_ Bucky’s advances?

Bucky rolled over, pulled the blankets over his head, feeling sick.

Or maybe Tony was just done. He was done with Bucky. Fucked him out, so to speak. He was ready to move on to someone else. Steve had warned Bucky, had told him that Tony wasn’t really a settle down sort of guy, that he was always moving on to the next best thing. Bucky waited in dread for the conversation, the one that started “it’s not you, it’s me.”

That empty space in the middle of the bed was the fucking Great Wall of China. Bucky didn’t know how to cross it anymore. He pulled back, as far as he could. Started dodging conversations with Tony because he didn’t want to hear the words. Left the room, rather than staring at Tony like a starving dog.

He couldn’t even be mad at Tash about it; she’d showed him that he was fucking missing it. Tony didn’t want him anymore, and Bucky hadn’t even _noticed_ , until she drew his attention to it.

_Shit._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely screaming. Wow!!

Tony had never really been a morning person; sometimes it had been fun to nudge and kiss and caress and wake him up slow, but Bucky had always -- always -- had coffee on hand before he started that. Getting up before eleven without a bucket of caffeine, or at least an angry Pepper on the phone, was not in Tony’s schedule. So Bucky had taken to waking early, just to sit in the bed and stare, watching Tony sleep. It was the only time he’d felt safe just looking at Tony; there were no expectations or weird vibes, just Tony, relaxed and sweet.

Bucky leaned against the headboard and settled in, knees pulled up, arms circling his calves, so he could watch as Tony breathed; his hair a fright, his mouth slightly open, lower lip a beautiful curve.

It couldn’t go on much longer, Bucky knew, before Tony told him to move out, get on with his life, so that Tony could get on with his.

Even as he watched, Tony stirred, eyes squeezing shut and then relaxing, and then all the cares and worries and discomforts of waking life crept into his muscles, forcing his shoulders to hunch, his neck to tense, his hands to twitch. A few weeks ago, Bucky would’ve slid in close and kissed away all that tension, touched and stroked and caressed until Tony was relaxed and happy and purring like a kitten, and then Bucky would have given him a much more fun tension to enjoy.

As it was, he just held his breath, clinging to the last few moments, before Tony finally let out a heavy sigh, opened his eyes and said, “Can we just get it over with? Please?”

Well, Bucky might have thought he’d earned a little consideration, but maybe a clean break was best. “Yeah,” he said, drawing the world out. He wasn’t going to beg; Tony didn’t want him anymore, there was no point in sacrificing his dignity for it. The end result was going to be the same. “Look, I’ll… I’ll try my best, for the team, not to make shit awkward, but… I’ll let Steve know not to call on me, unless it’s necessary. For a bit. While… while we go through that adjustment period.”

Tony’s breath hitched a little and his eyes were focused on something far, far away. “Yeah, that’s... That’s probably for the best. I’ll... You can let me know if you want someone else to handle your tech and maintenance, or...”

Bucky couldn’t help it, his right hand went automatically to his prosthetic. He hadn’t even thought about that. How was he supposed -- it had taken _months_ before he was comfortable enough with Tony to let him work on the arm, they’d… they’d started their relationship over his damn maintenance -- how was he supposed to let someone else touch him like that? For that matter, how the fuck was he supposed to sit there and let Tony do it, aching for him at every moment?

Tony’s eyes closed and his lips thinned. “Can I just, just one question? Why?”

Well, Jesus, Excuse the fuck out of him. _Why_? For fuck’s sake. “Guess I’m not like you, Tony,” Bucky snapped. “I can’t just turn it off. Bein’ around you for a while’s gonna hurt, I ain’t gonna lie about that.”

“Not _like me_ ; what the hell does _that_ mean?” Tony demanded. “You think I’m not _hurting_?”

“You could have just told me,” Bucky said, sullen and resentful. “I wouldn’t… look, I’m sorry, okay? I guess I just… I don’t know. If you felt pressured or whatever. I never meant you to…” He really didn’t want to think about that; that Tony had just been enduring Bucky’s attention. He’d wanted those last few moments to look at Tony and right that second, he’d have done anything to have left before this conversation got started. He got up abruptly and looked for a bag to stuff his things in. He didn’t need to take much, Tony had been oddly indulgent with him. Bucky had more clothes now than he’d ever had before in his _life_.  

“What are you talking about?” Tony asked, and he didn’t sound offended or angry or hurt. He just sounded confused. “What pressure?”

“To be with me,” Bucky burst out, furious and embarrassed. Did Tony think he… god! “I guess I don’t read people so good anymore. I’ll try harder. You… you shouldn’t have had to fake it. I… I thought you were with me, the whole way.”

Tony sat up and looked at him with wide eyes. “Wait, why was _I_ faking? You’re the one who’s been pretending!”

“Hell, yes, I’ve been _pretending_ ,” Bucky snarled. “Pretending to be okay. Pretending that living with you every day isn’t fucking _killing me_. Pretending that I don’t… don’t want you so bad, so you don’t have to flinch away from me. I can’t _stand_ it, Tony, I swear to you, I cannot. I thought we had something.”

Tony didn’t say anything. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. He frowned, looked around the room like he expected to find some answer in the shadows, and then looked back at Bucky. “Wait. Back up. When did I ever flinch? Is this -- did we have some kind of, I don’t know, multiverse event or something that I wasn’t aware of? Why the _hell_ would _I_ flinch from _you_?”

Bucky scrubbed his hands over his face. “It… look, okay, this sounds so stupid, but… I didn’t know, I swear, I didn’t. It was just a joke, a… stupid bet, with Tash. You know how she is. It… it wasn’t until _after_ that I noticed it. It’s okay, it’s not your fault, I’m… I’m not mad at you or anything, Tony. Mad at myself, that I didn’t… that I wasn’t respecting you.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about right now.” Tony slid out of bed and walked across the room until he was almost, but not quite, in arm’s reach. “What is it that you noticed?”

He could not look at Tony, just couldn’t. Bad enough Tony was going to make him say it outloud, where it was going to sound so hideously arrogant, or maybe just pathetic. “You don’t… you don’t want me.”

“What the fuck, of _course_ I want you! You’re the one who stopped wanting _me!_ ” Tony waved his hands around like he was in the middle of a Science Rant. “Jesus, how in the hell could I possibly not want you?”

“ _Not ever_ ,” Bucky whispered. “I never… _never_ stopped wanting you. Not ever. Not for a single _minute_. You just… you kept... “ Oh, my god. Oh, fucking christ on a cracker. How the… Bucky couldn’t decide if he wanted to throw a parade. Or throw up. “Wait, wait, _wait…_ are you telling me that you thought… I. Fuck. Tony, I was tryin’ to be subtle. Wanted you t’ come to me, rather than just _takin’_ what I wanted.”

Tony stared at him. “Subtle.” He stared some more. “You were trying-- For fuck’s sake, _why_?”

“Someone strike me dead,” Bucky said. He turned his face up to the heavens, but there was no merciful God to zot him dead with lightning. He heaved a great sigh that seemed to come all the way from the bottoms of his feet, “Because Tash bet that I couldn’t.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache forming. “I’ve spent the last couple of weeks thinking that you were just trying to figure out a diplomatic way to dump me because Natasha was bored and wanted some entertainment?”

It was hard not to be angry; there was plenty of anger to go around. For himself. For Tash. And Tony was not entirely blameless. “You know, the road goes both ways, babydoll,” he pointed out. “I’ve been here the _whole time_. Figured out damn quick that you don’t notice anythin’ that’s not bright yellow and screamin’, but… then I was waiting. Sure that you’d make a move on me at _some point_. An’ you didn’t… and you didn’t some more. What was I supposed to think, but that you… were happy I’d stopped pouncing on you?”

Tony opened his mouth and pointed, ready to argue... and then stopped. Closed his mouth and frowned as he thought it over. “Okay, fair,” he conceded. “I just, I... I’m on the wrong side of forty and it’s hard to keep up with you. Guess I got in the habit of saving my energy. And then when I realized it’d been a while, I thought-- well, you’d never been shy before about letting me know what you wanted, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch to figure you didn’t want it.” His mouth twisted, wry. “We’re both idiots, I guess.”

“You’re not on the wrong side of anything, Tony. You… you’re… God, you’re _everything_ I’ve ever wanted.” Bucky wasn’t even aware that he’d dropped into the murder strut until he was practically inside Tony’s personal space. “I cannot decide if I want to wring your fucking neck or fuck you into the mattress. Holy shit, what… what a complete shitstorm… oh, my God, _Tony_.” His hands were shaking and all of his bones had been removed and replaced with glass. He was on the verge of falling to pieces.

Tony’s eyes were wide and a little wild, and he touched Bucky’s face with a trembling hand so tentatively that it ached. “I vote we blame Nat for the whole thing and never do it again,” he said. “Fuck. I’ve been bracing for _days_.”

“You were afraid I was going to leave you,” Bucky marveled. He shouldn’t be happy about that, he really should not, but… He turned his head and kissed the center of Tony’s palm. “You still--” How hard was it, to just fucking say it. It was like reaching into his own chest and pulling out his still-beating heart to give it to Tony. “You love me? You still want me?”   

Tony’s hand curled to cup Bucky’s jaw, and slid back to Bucky’s neck. “ _Yes_ , I want you. I have always wanted you, since the first time you let me work on your arm. I love you, I want you, I _need_ you. That is... That is going to be true for the rest of my life. Even when my body finally fails, I’m going to need _you_ , honey.” He hesitated, looking at Bucky’s face, still shaking a little. “Bucky?”

Tony’s yes had been clear, it had been _emphatic_. The little steel bands around Bucky’s heart broke inside his chest. He reached out, snaking his arm around Tony’s back and in an instant, was pressed up against him. He wanted, god how he wanted. He needed.

His lips found Tony’s and he was none of those things that should have been in an apology kiss. He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t sweet. He didn’t dance seductively or tease. He just kissed Tony with everything in him, every ounce of desperation and longing that had been building inside him for weeks. He parted Tony’s lips, invaded his mouth roughly, hands pulling Tony as close as a whisper.

Tony matched him motion for motion, clinging to Bucky’s shoulders with frantic strength. He invited Bucky into his mouth, sucked on Bucky’s tongue and nipped at Bucky’s lips. His breath was already coming in gasps and he pressed against Bucky as if he were trying to meld their bodies together. “Bucky, oh, god, please,” he panted, “need you to fuck me now.”

“I am never, ever--” Bucky gasped, pushing Tony backward toward the bed. “ _\--ever_ going to be subtle again. Swear to Christ, I… god, I missed you. So hard, being so close an’ feeling like I wasn’t welcome.” He shoved Tony’s thin sleep pants around his ankles. “Oh, god, look at you.” Tony’s legs hit the bed and then Bucky was on him, shoving him into the center, covering him like a blanket. Bucky’s hands were everywhere, touching Tony’s face, tugging lightly at his hair, running down his sides, and grabbing a handful of Tony’s ass to pull him closer, frantic with need, desperate to reassure himself that he could, that he was allowed. And not just allowed. Desired. Craved. _Necessary_.  

Tony’s hands dragged across Bucky’s skin, shoving impatiently at his clothes. “God, honey, I never-- I never wanted you to feel unwelcome, I’m so sorry, so... Missed you too. Wanted you, wanted you to touch me, make me believe I was just imagining things.” He growled, annoyed. “So stupid. Need you now, need to feel you...”

It was on the tip of his tongue to explain that Bucky was the stupid one, the one who’d let himself get confused, let his insecurity overrule everything else, but what the hell was the point? He had so many better things to do with his mouth. He mouthed his way down Tony’s chest, flicking his tongue over the edges of the scar in the center, then licked at Tony’s nipple until it peaked and perked in his mouth, sucking it in, then blowing cool air over the tormented flesh.

Bucky wanted, he wanted _so much_ , but he let himself move slow, let himself suffer as much as he could bear, as much as Tony could take, because he never wanted to forget this, never wanted to go without again. Never wanted to be so stupid and foolhardy as to nearly throw the best thing in his life away with both hands. He slithered further down, slid his hands under Tony’s ass to bring him up. He couldn’t resist, so close to Tony’s cock. He nuzzled at it, letting the length brush against his cheek, slide along his lips before he pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the tip.   

Tony twitched and squirmed at the touch, groaning and straining for more. His fingers carded through Bucky’s hair, restless and desperate. “Oh, god baby, god, you make me feel so fucking good...”

Bucky took a few rapid breaths, inhaled and sucked Tony in, all the way to the root. Tony’s cock was slick and velvet, lush and perfect. If there had been some way to literally devour the man, Bucky might have considered it. As it was, he gave the best deep-throat, relentless blow job he could manage, ignoring his gag reflex and taking it. Stroked his tongue along Tony’s shaft, humming wickedly as Tony writhed in his grip.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Tony gasped, arching into it. “So good... Can’t even _imagine_ not wanting this, wanting you.” Tony’s fingers tightened in his hair, the pain grounding and steadying as Tony fucked up into his mouth, hips stuttering at the feel of Bucky’s throat.

Bucky couldn’t resist that siren’s call of Tony’s mouth, came up to kiss him again, kiss and lick at his lip, nip at that perfect jaw, nuzzle up his ear. He dragged himself along Tony’s body, pressing in, relishing the friction and then again, as he couldn’t help but rut against Tony’s thigh for that achingly perfect slide. “Slick, baby,” he said, biting down soft on Tony’s earlobe. “Get it for me?”

Tony made a noise that sounded like agreement and reached for the bedside table, groping blindly for the too-long-unused lube in the drawer. He tried to sit up, to twist to look for it, but Bucky couldn’t resist pulling him back to nuzzle and lick and bite at his jaw and neck. Eventually, Tony made a triumphant little “ha!” and produced the bottle. “Hand,” he demanded, and squirted a generous dollop on Bucky’s fingers.

It was torture, going slow, but they hadn’t, not for weeks, and Tony was so damn _tight_. Holy shit. Bucky’s dick jumped in eager sympathy as Tony clenched down at the smallest breach. Slow, then. Bucky rubbed at the fluted surface, not even trying to breach again, just teasing and pressing along the muscle, tempting it to open. He flicked his tongue over Tony’s cock again, light and alluring, getting him to relax. He couldn’t entirely control his own response to Tony’s moans and cries, hips rolling in response, rutting and rubbing against the sheets, urgent. The pressure and ache built, burned a steady fire in his spine until he was sweating.

Finally, _finally_ , Tony opened up for him. Fervent heat welcomed him, and Bucky strained against it. “You… you ready, baby?” He bent two fingers, seeking that sensitive, responsive place deep inside Tony’s body, pressing and stroking.

“God, yes, I -- _hnnng!_ \-- so fucking ready. Get in me, already.” Tony tried to push back against him, but didn’t have enough leverage to move a super soldier.

Bucky was shaking with need. Tony’s hands had him on fire, the needy whines had him rock hard and aching. Tony had always gotten him so eager for it, greedy and craving, even before it became _love_ , when it was just animal heat. He climbed onto Tony, hooking one leg up onto his elbow and pressed in for a kiss.

Achingly tender, he possessed Tony’s mouth, slid his tongue in and brushed his lips against Tony’s. His tongue sought out every secret, caressed his lip, memorized his taste. Tony’s scent was everywhere, he was surrounded by it. He could have sunk into it and never surfaced.

He’d wanted to make it last, but Bucky’s control was slipping. He lifted himself, got them lined up, guided himself into Tony’s body. He pressed in, an inch. Another. He made a sound, some sort of sound, like a sob or sigh. Tony’s heat enclosed him. The slick, luxuriant feel of Tony’s passage was heaven. Home. _Oh, god_.

Tony’s head was thrown back, the cords of his neck standing out, his mouth still parted from their last kiss. His hands clenched on Bucky’s arm and back, trying to drag them even closer together, to eliminate every bit of space between them. “Yes, _yes_ , that’s perfect, that’s, oh _god_ , honey,” he breathed. “Come on come on come on I need to feel you. Want to feel you for _days_.”

Bucky moved, back and then in again, each stroke going deeper, longer, faster. He thrust in, his full length and stopped, unable to move, unwilling. He rolled his hips, tiny motions, just enough to torture them both. Tony arched against him, tempting and perfect. He kept on; Bucky would never, ever get enough, but he’d take as much as he could. He drew back and a mad, desperate sort of joy rose in him, knocking his control aside completely.

There were no words, nothing he could do. Rocking into Tony, thrusting into him, it was as inevitable and inexorable as the tide. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow, couldn’t hold back. He drove into Tony, body rising and falling. Tony’s legs were around his waist, pulling him closer, encouraging him to move even faster, rougher. His blood drummed in his veins, primitive. Primal. He was an animal and he rutted like a beast, running flat out toward release, unable to slow at all. Too rough, he knew it. Tony would bruise, would ache, and still, Bucky couldn’t go gentle.

“Tony, Tony, god, Tony,” Bucky was crying his name, face pressed against Tony’s throat. He knew nothing but fierce, fiery exhilaration.

Tony moved with him, each breath half-sobbed. Bucky shifted, just a bit, just _enough_ , and Tony let out a cry of desperate need. He struggled to push a hand between them, grabbing at his cock and pulling frantically. “Bucky, honey, yes, yes, come on, need you, want you, _love you_...”

Bucky groaned, words, maybe. Pleas and begging. He didn’t know. Tony’s body clenched around him and he shuddered. A wave of ardor, tempered with sheer, rapturous joy, rose up inside him and all he could do was ride it until he crashed down. There was nowhere left to go but over the edge and Bucky flung himself at his orgasm as if prepared to do battle with it. He tucked his face against Tony’s shoulder, shivering out his release. He was only dimly aware of the blossom of heat against his belly, only faintly cognizant of Tony’s matching cries. What he did know was that he was shaken to his core, spent and holding Tony in his arms as if he could never let go.

Tony’s hands were stroking his skin, Tony’s voice a soothing murmur in his ears. “...got you, never letting go. It’s okay, I’m right here.” As Bucky’s heartrate began to slow, Tony nuzzled up against his neck, kissing and tasting and breathing warm air across his throat. “There you go, baby,” Tony said. “I’ve got you.”

 _Jesus_. Bucky came back to some awareness, realized his face was damp with more than just sweat. He wiped his cheeks on Tony’s shoulder, unwilling (or maybe unable) to move much more than that. “Oh, _Tony_ ,” he said, soft against Tony’s neck. “Don’t… don’t ever let me forget again. You love me; you might have to remind me, sometimes.”  

Tony squeezed him tight. “Should have been reminding you every day,” he said softly. “We’ll do better, now.”

“No more of this subtle bullshit, either,” Bucky said. “Gonna tell the world I love you, an’ hell with anyone else.”

Tony chuckled. “Historically, I don’t do so well with subtle anyway. You were doing much better with the ‘throw me over your shoulder like a caveman’ approach.”

Bucky snuggled closer. “Works for me.”


End file.
